Preaching beyond the choir

Missoula filmmaker looks at love and religion in the Deep South

Paige Williams' mother rocks on the front porch of her Mississippi home in her daughter's documentary, Mississippi Queen. "We have a relationship that's extremely loving and extremely honest," says Williams. "But when it comes to who I love, we agree to disagree."

In Paige Williams' powerful documentary, Mississippi Queen, we only
know her as Mama. She looks stern and troubled throughout the film,
choosing her words carefully. That's why it hurts when Mama looks
straight into the camera and, without hesitation, says, "It's not who
you are."

For the Missoula filmmaker, that line still burns. Mama, Williams'
mother, refuses to accept her daughter's lifestyle. In fact, Williams'
parents are so adamantly opposed to what they coldly refer to as
"same-sex attraction" that they founded Mississippi's only ex-gay
ministry, a group dedicated to helping gay men and women get right with
the Lord by suppressing their sexuality.

"That line killed me," says Williams. "I couldn't even look at the
footage for probably six months. The thing is, I thought when I went
down there that our relationship was at a certain point, and then she
said things that made me think back to when I was in high school and
she was threatening me with a gun."

Mississippi Queen cuts to the very definitions of love, religion,
sexuality and family. Williams calls her relationship with her parents
"extremely loving and extremely honest." But when it comes to her
long-term relationship with a woman, and how that relationship meshes
with her parents' devout Southern Baptist beliefs, Williams says they
agree to disagree.

"Mama may not like it and she may not approve," says Williams, "but
it is who I am. As much as she'd like to think I may change, I
can't."

To her credit, Williams uses her film to at least better understand
her parents' perspective. She traveled throughout the Deep South and
spoke with other ex-gay ministers, her parents' minister, members of
the gay community and people Williams describes as "ex-ex-gay." Each
interview unfurls without judgment or argument—hell-fire
damnation and measured explanations receive equal time.

"I went into it with a very two-sided approach," explains Williams,
who received her master's from the University of Montana's Media Arts
program in 2006. "I didn't want to make anyone a mockery and I wanted
to respect everyone. I thought from the very beginning that this film
could start an important dialogue. I didn't want to preach just to the
choir, because then only the choir hears you."

The result makes for emotional and candid discussion. In an early
scene, Williams interviews Wendy Leger, an ex-gay minister from
Louisiana who used to date women. Leger says homosexuality is not a
choice—something not often said in the ex-gay community—but
that she can choose how to act on her homosexual feelings.

In a different interview, another ex-gay minister, Sarah Cart,
admits nothing in her is attracted to men, but that she's comfortable
with God's path for her. "God is my outlet," she says. "He is my
intimacy today."

Then there's Greg Belser, the minister of Williams' parents' church,
who clutches a Bible throughout his interview and points with
conviction to Leviticus 18, which states, "You must not lie with a male
as with a woman; it is an abomination." In the only thing resembling a
retort, Williams flashes text underneath the rest of the interview,
mentioning other things Leviticus admonishes—like haircuts.

"I was surprised by almost everyone we spoke to," says Williams.
"There were times when everything in me wanted to fight and fight what
they were saying. But the thing is, you're never going to change their
mind."

While Williams realizes she won't necessarily change anyone's mind,
she does hope the 63-minute film promotes a larger conversation about
overcoming differences. So far, it has. During an April screening in
Jackson, Miss., her parents helped field questions during a talkback
session that Williams describes as "half Baptist and half
gay—something you don't always see in Jackson without a fight."
The film also collected the audience award at South Carolina's Indie
Grits Film Festival and Best Documentary at the Delta International
Film Festival in Mississippi. It premieres in Missoula at the Wilma
Theatre June 18 before screening as part of the Montana Pride
Celebration in Kalispell June 20.

"My parents loved it," says Williams. "They thought it was honest
and fair. They're proud of me. They said that."

Her parents' pride still doesn't overshadow the lingering
agree-to-disagree sentiment. Williams says Mama demonstrated great
growth in understanding over two years of filming Mississippi Queen,
but understanding and acceptance are still miles apart. For instance,
Mama reveals in the film that she was more hurt by her daughter dating
women than she was by the death of her parents.

"That right there, that we will never get over," says Williams. "I
get that. All I can say is, I'm going to pray for her to get over that
just like she'll pray for me. But I don't think either of us will ever
get what we want." The Cave:Advertising:02 Production
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Mississippi Queen makes its Montana premiere at the Wilma Theatre
Thursday, June 18. A reception with music and food begins at 7 PM, with
a talkback following the screening. $5. The film will also screen at
the Red Lion Fireside Room in Kalispell June 20, at noon.